


A Court of Scarlet Ruin

by ScarlettJuniper



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Court of Thorns and Roses Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Might not, This is absolutely nothing but high octane lingering gazes and sexual tension, might get longer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 11:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30021039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettJuniper/pseuds/ScarlettJuniper
Summary: Sakura Haruno goes into the woods and unleashes something...unexpected.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Itachi, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	A Court of Scarlet Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> Listen....I swore to myself up and down that this was going to be a one-shot because I don't have time to write another novel about Sakura, and also because this idea is something so self-indulgent it's absurd. But by the end of editing it I realized 1) But I want to write more. 2) End of List.
> 
> So I am calling this multi-chapter, but I am not sure when I am going to update because I don't have a plan and I have ~ something original ~ that is eating up a lot of my free time. 
> 
> And if you want more high-octane Faerie kissing, you should read the Court of Thorns and Roses series. 
> 
> Enjoy??

_I. Into the Woods_

_"You really are ungrateful."_

The words rang through Sakura's memories as she pushed through the blanket of snow that covered the horizon of the Uchiha lands.. The cutting tone of Sasuke's voice was inescapable as she took each punishing step, as the cold air ran ragged in her lungs.

It was cold here. It was always cold here as if winter had reached its clawing grasp around the Uchiha lands and refused to let go. 

Until today, she had thought herself used to it. But now. all she could think of was spring and the sight of the pink flowers of her namesake. In the Mortal realms, the seasons would have already turned, casting the world in the warm glow of summer. 

She missed the sights of home.

It was a rare feeling, something she had not felt since she had come to this frozen place. But now that homesickness grew taut in her throat, choking at her. When she had lived in the mortal realms, she would have given anything to be spirited away from them. Taken away from the knee-deep muck, the tiny, cold room she rented for herself. Now, all she could think of was what she missed. Simple things--the crust of homemade bread, the sounds of people in the streets gossiping. Late nights spent in the makeshift hospital at the center of town, stitching sutures and begging her patients to keep the wound clean. 

In that place, she had always been something of an outsider. An orphan, an apprentice doctor. But she had been a part of the flow of life through the artery of town. She had been someone who could joke, who could intimidate anyone who questioned her skills with bandages or scalpel.

Now there was a yawning chasm between her and those things; between her and the girl she had been. On one side was her life in the Mortal Realms, where she had been born and spent her youth. And on the other was this.

Engaged to be married to a High Fae lord, trapped by a contract that had been signed years before her birth. Sakura had known nothing of her High Fae heritage until the Fae had come knocking at her door. There was no reason for the Fae to come to a worn down, Mortal town. Though they were close to the wall that separated the two realms, the Fae never set foot in their muddy town.

Until now. Perhaps, back home, they would turn her into a legend: the girl who had been spirited away to become a High Fae lord’s bride. Would she be something out of a legend? Or a cautionary tale? 

Even Sakura was not sure. 

Her husband-to-be was forbidding and remote. He had not been the one to fetch her—no, that had been a task for his second-in-command, a white-haired Fae noble with a face made for scowling. She had rarely seen her intended beyond mealtimes, where he sat in near silence, surrounded by the three Fae members of his household.

But future groom was handsome, with coal dark hair and a face like a carver’s masterpiece. All the Fae were beautiful, but Sasuke Uchiha was something otherworldly. At dinner, when she dared study his face, seeking to know him, Sakura could feel the breath crushed out of her lungs. He was like a dark god, untouchable and perfect.

He had transformed her life: giving her a comfortable suite of rooms and a wardrobe that would have made a mortal princess weep, allowing her free reign along his territory and in his home. He asked nothing of her, demanded nothing that another groom might.

Although that did nothing to soothe the ache she felt in her chest when he looked at her, and she could see he felt as trapped in this marriage as she did. Marriage was a lifetime, and Sakura did not relish decades of loneliness. Far worse was to think of the lifetimes of the High Fae, of which she was half, and imagine centuries of such isolation.

It was that ache that had spurred her into speaking this morning. To ask if she might ride with him, might come to know him in some small way. 

Sasuke’s facial expression had somehow become even darker, even more remote.

“Do you even know how to ride?” He had asked, his tone sharp.

Part of Sakura wanted to curl inward, to accept the insult, and go back to being silent and forgotten. But she was not meant for silence. Not when she was working in the town hospital and her patients had refused to listen to her, nor when she was living in the center of town alone, and men thought she was an easy target.

No, it was this new Sakura who had become content with silence and quiet. Gentle and pliable. It was easy to just disappear, surrounded by Sasuke and his powerful friends. She had thought that if she were patient, if she was just quiet and careful with her words, eventually the ice around them all would shatter and she could feel alive once more.

But something about the curve of Sasuke’s face had told her that he would never change. That layer of ice would not break unless she pushed.

And so, Sakura pushed.

“It will make this easier for both of us if you try to connect,” she snapped. “I didn’t ask to be brought here.”

It was then that Sasuke’s lip had curled in disgust. In her memories, she could feel him winding back like a viper about to strike. 

“I’ve elevated you above what a half breed like yourself deserves, and yet you crave _more_? You think we could possibly have something in common? There isn’t a single thing you could offer me, and yet you wish to _connect_. Do you imagine you could have romance if you asked? That I could even come to love you, the way you mortals pant after in your pathetic stories?”

Sakura had kept her face calm as he spoke, but every word had hit her like a blow. 

At her silence, Sasuke had only sneered, revealing one inhuman canine. “You really are ungrateful,” he had said, letting the words settle between them.

Sakura had been unable to form words. There was no reply to an insult like that.

She had left at that, without saying a word. She had walked to the front door, thrown her green cloak over her shoulder, and walked out the door. 

For every single word of Sasuke’s rebuke had been true. 

She was lonely. She was lonely and isolated and could feel the old spark inside her fading away. And there was a part of her that ached for the idea of love. It felt weak and foolishly romantic. But that did not mean that she did not mourn the loss of her future.

To find that she had been bound to marriage to a High Fae Lord, before she had been born, before she had been a thought, had taken all chance of that away from her.

Sakura had grown up ignorant of her father's name, let alone his power. The lord of the spring court--dead now, it seemed--had signed away his only daughter's hand in marriage to the Uchiha clan to secure himself an alliance. But as far as she could tell, it was an alliance that had gained him nothing. Both her father and Sasuke’s were dead.

But in the Fae realms, a contract signed in blood was binding, even beyond the life of the ones who had agreed to it. 

The thought was overwhelming. An agreement stretching out into eternity, binding her to the heir of the Uchiha family.

Sakura took a deep, shuddering breath, letting the winter air distract her. The cold was a balm, and for all the wintery chill both inside and out, the grounds of the Uchiha lands were beautiful. A thin, glittering layer of ice wrapped around the trees encasing them with crystal that glinted in the sunlight.

It soothed her, the beauty of this place. 

There were worse fates, she told herself. 

And then she took another step forward to lose herself in the woods. 

She had been warned of the dangers of this place, by a hulking Fae named Jugo who kept the stables for Sasuke. He was one of the few members of the household that treated her with kindness, but that too was at a remove. 

As if they all kept her at arms-length, at the command of their master.

He had also whispered of the tragedies that had befallen the Uchiha family. How they had all been slaughtered, how Sasuke was the only one remaining to carry the legacy.

And be bound by the engagement.

No. Sakura would not let herself think of that, nor would she let herself think of the dangers that Jugo had whispered of. 

She could not be a prisoner in this world.

“Let him call me ungrateful,” Sakura snapped. “I won’t let him make me his captive.”

It was the first words she had spoken since she had left the manor. No, it was the first words she had spoken since Sasuke had insulted her. 

Now, the reply seemed to hang hollow in the air. The only response was the sound of snow falling off branches in the distance and the whistle of the wind as it curved through the air.

For a moment, she paused and imagined going back. It would be a humiliation to arrive home and find him waiting. She could already hear the cruel welcome in his voice. The mere thought of it made her cheeks heat with humiliation.

Sakura refused to submit herself to such insult. Instead, she pressed onward, away from the manor and deeper into the forest. Here the snow grew as thick as her shins and the bark of the trees had gone black like jagged cuts of iron sticking out of the snow. Her breath was a mist before her--did it linger longer in the cold air? Or was that merely her imagination running wild to her nerves? 

The walk grew more challenging; her legs growing tired against the pull of the snow. Her thoughts seemed to linger outside of her body, and distantly Sakura realized that the terrain had turned to hills. Odd--she could see mountains from the windows of her room, but Sakura had not imagined that she had walked far enough to reach the foothills that marked their beginning.

Regardless, Sakura pressed forward, as her muscles strained until the entire world went white. The hill had crested at last, and suddenly the trees were gone. The entire world had turned into a perfect white expanse.

A single sword jutted out of the snow. It was the only thing to break the horizon; and it was so out of place, that Sakura could not help but approach. The ironwork of the hilt was delicate, perfectly curved, and more decorative than functional. Sakura knew little of swords and weapons, but she could guess that this was a dueling rapier. Its guard had been formed to look like vines as it wrapped around where its owner's hand would sit, culminating in a pommel traced with golden patterns. With a jolt, Sakura realized that the patterns made the shape of spring flowers. 

She could not resist bringing her fingertips to trace the metal, down the hilt and along the blade where the golden pattern continued. Until the tips of her finger met the metal of the blade, and she drew back with a gasp.

For the metal was warm to the touch as if it had only just been released from its owner's hand.

But the jerk of her hand had brushed against the sharp edge of the blade. Although the sword had sat untouched for an unknowable length of time, it was perfectly maintained and sharp enough to kill. She saw the scarlet thumbprint on the steel before she felt the bite of it in the flesh of her thumb. Embarrassed to have marked such a lovely thing, Sakura watched as a drop of her blood ran in a rivulet down the groove in the middle of the blade. 

The wound wasn’t deep, but somehow, she had bled enough that a rivulet of her blood traced a line down the iron of the blade and into the snow. A crimson stain grew at the base, spreading into the snow. Dread grew in the pit of Sakura’s stomach as the wind picked up around her.

For she had not bled that much at all. This was Fae magic. These were the terrible wonders that mortals spoke of in whispers when they told of the marvels of the land behind the walls. 

Sakura could only watch helplessly as the crimson snow began to melt, revealing its treasure beneath. The shape of a man emerged--no, not a man. A High Fae male, as beautiful and deadly as any of the denizens of her new home. No—there was something about him that was even more inhuman and perfect than even Sasuke. 

His skin was pure white and bloodless, with coal dark eyelashes and hair. A beautiful corpse buried beneath the snow. As the snow melted, she could see that it was embedded in his heart, pinning him to the dark earth below.

But then she saw his chest rise and fall as if struggling to breathe.

Sakura's healer's instincts immediately took over, sending her kneeling to his side. Her fingers found a faint pulse she remembered the warnings of Jugo and the other Fae. But if he was one of the dangers they spoke of, Sakura did not care. This male was injured, but still fighting for life, and that fact alone was enough to make her disregard any threat to herself.

Beneath her touch, his skin was cold, but it was not the ice of the frozen dead. It was cool like marble. She had not studied the physiology of the Fae, but as it warmed beneath her fingers, and as his chest seemed to continue to fight for air, that was enough of an encouraging sign. 

Sakura was keenly aware that she had nothing to treat him with; no medicine or bandages and nothing to fight infection. A sword was buried in his chest pinning him to the ground. For a mortal, that would be fatal. But for this High Fae male...

"What do you need," she found herself asking out loud. The words cut through the silence of the hill like a knife. 

Her patient seemed to react, his eyelids fluttering in response and his lips parted slightly as if to speak. How long had he lain dormant here, beneath a layer of snow? High Fae magic had pinned him to this place, and she could only guess at what magic it would take to release him. 

He was beautiful, this Fae male. His face was carved from classical lines, like a sculpture. But even with his eyes shut, he did not look rested. Tired lines traced his face, and there was something about the curve of his lips. As if the cut of his mouth was meant for sorrow as if this male had seen too much. 

"Stop," Sakura muttered to herself, embarrassed at the way her gaze traced the lines of her patient’s face. She had been warned not to care too much. Getting too interested in the rhythms of a patient’s life was a grave mistake. It did nothing for their care, but it made the sting worse when they succumbed to illness or injury. 

And yet Sakura was helpless to the pull toward this strange male. Her fingers trembled as she felt his neck for injury, looking for wounds other than the sword holding him in place. And she found that she could not resist the call to touch him, to feel the marble-perfection of his skin. 

No one was here to witness as she brought her fingers to his face, as she ran the pad of her thumb across his lips. And no one could see the blush that spread across her features as he moaned at the ghost of her touch. The part of her that was meant to be a doctor was elated. The sound was a clear sign that he was coming back to life, that the magic had worked somehow. And yet there was another, darker part of her that stirred at the sound, as she imagined what this male's voice would sound like, as she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair and see those eyes open, drinking in the sight of her.

"You’re being unprofessional," Sakura admonished herself. "You need to figure out how to undo whatever enchantment this is."

With a rush, she remembered what it was that had melted the snow. The idea was strange but...this was the Fae realm, and the entire realm ran on strange, ancient magic. 

Before she could think better of it, Sakura brought her thumb to the male's lips, forcing them to part. She could barely see the edge of one long canine where her finger forced his mouth open, and she shivered at the reminder that this was no mortal man. 

She had no idea what she would awaken here. 

But nothing happened. Feeling foolish, Sakura moved to pull her hand away. Ridiculous to think that her blood could bring him back. The doctor back home would call her a superstitious fool.

Until the male's hands clamped against her wrist, holding her in place. 

He let out another of those tiny moans and she felt the heat of his tongue flick against the cut on her thumb. Shivers raced down her spine, and Sakura's heartbeat a drummer's tempo. 

And then he opened his eyes. 

They were scarlet and black, drawing Sakura into their patterned whorl. She was helpless beneath the hypnotic gaze, drawn in like prey for the slaughter. Sakura did not even try to release her hand from his grasp, letting his tongue flick circles along the skin of her thumb. 

Something about the intensity in his stare, the feel of his touch on her wrist, the warmth of his mouth, made her light-headed. Her breathing was shallow in her chest, and Sakura could feel herself falling, falling, falling into that inhuman gaze.

Then the Fae male blinked, and his eyes turned dark like a mortal man's. Instantly, the spell was broken. With a sudden movement, he released her hand, apology tracing across his face. The expression turned him from something inhuman and beautiful into something real. Which somehow only made his beauty more devastating. 

"My apologies," he said. The male’s voice was surprisingly gentle. Before Sakura could stammer out a reply, the male was sitting up and reaching for the blade in his chest.

"You shouldn't--" Sakura tried to warn, but she went ignored as he pulled, removing from his chest without ceremony. The only sign that he felt anything was the crease of his brow as the steel slid from its place buried in his flesh. 

When the blade was free and resting in his hands, the male stood. He took a long, deep breath as if savoring the feel of the air, unhampered as it entered his lungs. After a long moment, he opened his eyes, turning once more to face Sakura.

She could almost feel the heat of his gaze, and the look in his eyes was cautious, weighing. As if he knew every indecent thought she had harbored as he had been unconscious. 

"That’s better," he said with a wry smile, gesturing to the wound in his chest. His high Fae heritage was already at work, healing the wound. 

"Thank you," he continued, this time with a playful warmth. "I am in your debt." He took a step forward, and there was something in his gaze that was familiar and extremely human. The words ran down Sakura's spine, heating her cheeks.

But before she could answer a shadow descended on the clearing, colliding with the male. 

Sasuke had appeared like death personified. Violence descended on the clearing. Sakura had to choke back her scream, diving away from the fight that had shattered the calm of the clearing. But she could feel an anger rising within, bright and hot, as Sasuke locked himself in combat with this mysterious male. 

She could barely trace their movements; they were faster than any human could fight. This was the power of the Fae, their violence untethered. This was what human travelers whispered of and feared so much. This was what mothers warned their daughters of, when they told them of Fae men stealing them away from their homes. This inhuman struggle, the flashing of blades, of blood, of teeth. 

But Sakura did not miss the blood that splattered in the snow. Or the masculine grunt of pain--was it Sasuke or his opponent who had been hurt?

It did not matter. It did not matter to her suddenly, that these were Uchiha lands and that Sasuke held dominion here. Sakura had healed this mysterious male, and now Sasuke threatened to undo her work. She was a healer by nature, and she would not see someone die for no reason. 

Sakura moved before she could understand what was truly occurring. She stepped forward, into the fight between the two males. She found herself unafraid as she moved to bring herself between the two males, extending her hand. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to bring an end to this fight, an end to this needless bloodshed. And something had stirred within her to match, some buried power rising to match the urge. 

Later Sakura could wonder at the warmth she had felt flow through her veins, and the way her hands seemed to move of their own accord. Time seemed to slow before her, and she could see the flow of the fight. It was easy to guess at who would strike next, and where to move to block it. Her fingers wrapped around Sasuke, grabbing him by the forearm, stopping his blow in midair. Then she reached for the other male, bringing her hand to grasp the collar of his shirt.

"Stop this," she said. It was her voice, but also not. Even to her own ears, it was layered with power, sounding ancient and remote. And the males responded, stilling entirely. Sasuke's face broke into a scowl, but that other male only watched her carefully, as if wary of this power.

"Release me," Sasuke ordered. And just like that, her hold on that mysterious power was shattered. He wrenched out of her grasp but did not move to strike again. Perhaps it was because even he could not bring himself to attack his fiancée, not when she stood between him and his prey. 

Sakura hated the way she had given in so easily, but she was not master of that power, and it had deserted her as soon as he had spoken.

_Someday_ , part of her whispered. _Someday you will have mastery._

But that was not a thought that came from her own thoughts, and it chilled her just as much as Sasuke’s voice had.

“Excuse me,” the other male said politely, drawing her attention, Sakura realized that she had still clung to him, but not to hold him back but…for support. There was something about his presence that soothed her just as much as Sasuke’s had filled her with dread.

That thought alone was enough to make her release her grasp, as quickly as if she had been burned by his touch.

As her had released she realized how fine his clothing was, how well made, and how careful the embroidery had been stitched. It was expensive cloth, the kind meant for a lord or a prince. 

Some instinct riled within Sakura, insisting that she was not safe here. Sasuke was the lord of the Uchiha lands, giving him titles and powers and a depth to his Fae magic. But this male... 

As ignorant to the ways of the Fae world as Sakura was, even she could feel the power that radiated off of him now. The sword that had been run through his chest had not been to kill him--Sakura was not even sure such a thing was possible--it was to bind him. And she had unleashed that power.

What did it mean that Sasuke had immediately launched into battle against this male? A male who had been kind to her, who had been gentle even as she had fumbled over his healing body. 

And what did it mean that Sakura still felt a pull between the two of them. As if, in freeing him, she had bound their fates together in some way. 

Sakura did not miss the rebuke in Sasuke's gaze as she stepped away from the other male. Nor did she miss the way the mysterious male's gaze softened slightly. As if he too felt the connection between them and regretted the loss of her touch.

_Blood magic_ , some part of her whispered. She ran her forefinger over the thumb that she had cut, from where this male had drunk part of her blood. 

It had already healed. 

But then Sasuke stepped forward, blocking Sakura from this male's scrutinizing gaze. He put his arm out, as if to protect her. It was a gesture that confused her.

"I warned you once, that you would not be able to bind me forever." The other male's voice rang through the clearing. Gone was the polite tone he had taken with Sakura, and gone was the soft curve of his expression,

Now he was nothing but raw power and fury.

"And I warned you that should you ever wake, I would end you myself," Sasuke said. "For what you did to our clan you deserve that and more."

A jolt ran through Sakura at the word 'our'. Suddenly she could see the resemblance clearly--they had the same coal dark hair and the same proud curve of their nose. But where Sasuke was all arrogance, this male was tired. He was clearly the older one, and it was as if those extra years had cost him dearly. 

"And yet you couldn't finish the job," the male taunted. Itachi. The name came to Sakura with a jolt. Karin had whispered of the bloody past of the Uchiha family. Itachi Uchiha had slain the entirety of his family before disappearing into the night almost a century ago. Leaving behind only Sasuke, his younger brother, to inherit the mantle of the family lands and to deal with the tragedy alone.

"I have had decades to grow in strength," Sasuke retorted. "And you are weakened after your time bound to the earth."

At that, Itachi met Sakura's gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt some kind of heat passed down through the bond of blood they now shared. No, Itachi was not weak. Sakura could feel the truth of that, feel power radiating off of him. If this was his weakened state…Sakura could not imagine the kind of power this male possessed.

"All the more reason to wait, then," Itachi said. "For this is not a fitting battlefield for our final confrontation, and the time is not yet ripe." 

He spoke the words not to Sasuke, but to her. As if there was some other, layered message meant just for her.

And then he turned, and as he turned it was as if he had pulled a cloak of night from the very fabric of reality. Something in Sakura’s heart ached to disappear into that cloak. But Itachi spared her nothing but one final lingering glace, so hot she could feel it on her skin. Then that cloak wrapped itself around him, taking the shape of a thousand beating wings until Itachi was gone. And all that was left was the distant echoes of the sounds of crows.

And Sasuke. Sakura had been left alone with the husband she had been forced upon, the husband who did not want her. The husband who found her ungrateful. 

He turned on her, and Sakura flinched readying herself for the storm. But Sasuke was as still as calm as a frozen lake.

"You have no idea the danger you just unleashed," he said. 

An apology grew in her throat, but she could not bring herself to make it. There was something about the wall in Sasuke's gaze that made Sakura pull back and resist the urge to extend a hand between them. 

"But perhaps," Sasuke continued, "Itachi is not the only danger in these woods." There was a considering tone there...with an edge of respect.

She turned to look behind her, to see what he meant. For surely, he could not refer to her.

Her vision caught on the ground where she had stood and Sakura felt the dread that welled up in her throat. Behind her, the snow had melted, leaving a trail of grass behind her. But it was not the dead earth of winter, but the fresh grass of spring, decorated with buds of blooming wildflowers.

It did not stretch back far, just long enough that it marked the strides Sakura had taken to stop the fight between Sasuke and Itachi. When that mysterious power had first stirred within her. 

The iron taste of fear rose in her, as she imagined how Sasuke would react. He was High Fae Lord, and they brokered no challenges on their own land. Of course, as a half Fae bastard, she would bear him no threat. But if he suddenly decided that he could not tolerate the idea of a wife with any power at all, if he resented any power in her at all...

Sakura forced herself to meet Sasuke's gaze. She forced herself to think of nothing but the stillness of the trees and the way the snow blanketed the world in white. Some instinct screamed that Sasuke would strike at the first hint of weakness.

But there was no challenge in his gaze. 

For the first time, there was something beyond the cool disinterest he wore. Something feral and bright. Something hungry.

"Perhaps you are more than what you seem," Sasuke said, extending a hand. 

Sakura hesitated, just long enough for Sasuke to see that she was making a choice. That in taking the hand, she was choosing to let him in, to make that connection between them.

And that she could pull it away just as easily. 

Her palm settled into his own, while Sakura kept her face as cool and distant as his own. 

The last thing she saw as he used his magic to whisk them home was a gleam of triumph in her future husband's gaze. 

And Sakura could sense that the world had shifted once more, just as it had when she had first been swept away from the mortal world.


End file.
